Read The Deep for Free Online Page B

uncomfortably, when the
silence threatens to suffocate me. “Come on, let’s just go to the
square, okay?”
    “Fine.” He still seems in a grump as we make
our way to the center, his face only brightening when we get to the
main road. It’s bustling with musicians playing upbeat music and
vendors selling food and drinks from market stalls. Some children
dressed in white and yellow dance excitedly around a flute player
piping out a stirring melody.
    By the time we get to the square, the place
is packed. The Bookkeeper is about to do a speech to thank Mother
Nature for the gifts of summer she bestowed on us. Since we no
longer have priests to speak about Annabelle’s arrival, the
official part is considerably shorter. I happen to know Nathan
originally wanted to thank the Goddess for sending us a ship from
Cornwall, but his counselors advised against it. The Phileans have
many supporters, and the Bookkeeper doesn’t want to start out by
rubbing half of the people on the square the wrong way.
    It doesn’t take long for the procession of
farmers with carts full of grain to make their appearance. With
proud faces, they carry the bags onto the stage. The contents will
be distributed among the Hope Harborers, who will each get a small
pouch of the very first harvest. It is custom to mill the grain and
use the flour to bake bread for your neighbors. They, in turn, bake
something for you.
    “You have to use the grain in your pouch to
make food for someone else,” I explain to Ben. “You then give it to
your neighbors.”
    “Good to know,” Ben says. “I’m just not the
best baker in town. I’m more of a meat-and-game man.”
    “I can help you,” I offer.
    And then, Ben stops breathing, his eyes
widening as he looks at the grandstand next to the stage. “Is that
– the Eldest?” he asks hoarsely. “Who is with him?”
    “Some people from your former village,” I
reply. Only now does it occur to me that I could have warned him.
He didn’t run away to Hope Harbor for fun.
    “Oh.” His eyes scan the crowd. He looks pale
and anxious.
    “Come on, let’s go over to the stage.” I pull
him along. “We’ll just take our grain and get out of here to relax
in a quieter part of town, okay?”
    As we get closer to the farmers’ carts, I can
hear the Newexter crowd in the grandstand getting rowdy.
Apparently, they’ve noticed Ben and are now shooting him vile
looks.
    “What are you doing here?” a girl with
bright, green eyes snaps at him. “Are you even allowed to come to
parties?”
    Ben doesn’t respond. Instead, he stares
intently at his toes.
    “Hey, I’m talking to you!” Her voice rises.
“Piss off, you bastard. How dare you show your face here?”
    “Coward,” another girl chimes in.
    “Asshole,” the first girl reprises her
tirade.
    “Murderer,” a dark-haired guy yells at
him.
    I glare at the swearing youngsters. “Can you
keep it down?” I shout. My voice is steady, although the
easterners’ harsh words did shock me. “You’re guests in our town.
We don’t want any trouble. Or bullies.”
    That seems to deter them. “I’m sorry, miss,”
the green-eyed girl says. “It’s okay. He’s gone anyway.”
    When I turn around, I discover Ben has indeed
fled the scene.

    “Go away.”
    Ben’s voice sounds muffled through the
cottage door.
    I knock once more. I won’t be rebuffed that
easily. “Ben, come out. I want to talk to you.”
    “Why?” A sudden sob strangles his voice.
    With an impatient sigh, I push the door open.
The fishermen’s cottages in this row don’t have locks on their
doors, so I could have just walked in, but I wanted to give Ben the
chance to open the door for me. “Because,” I reply with a
frown.
    He’s sitting at the table, a glass of gin in
front of him. My hand resolutely pushes the drink away as I sit
down. “Spill,” I say.
    “What’s there to say?” Ben looks at me both
angrily and sadly. “You heard them, didn’t you? Everybody hates